


Come Upon Me (Like a Debt Remix)

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/M, POV Male Character, POV Second Person, Remix, Wordcount: 100-1.000, remix madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom lives the same mistake over and over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Upon Me (Like a Debt Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edenfalling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/gifts).
  * Inspired by [No Illusions](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/7985) by edenfalling. 



> Thanks to my beta L!

The problem with dream-share is this: you're not afraid to die. It's the only way to wake up. It's the only out you've got so you learn not to fear it, and after awhile, it gets easier. Put a gun to your own head, die in an explosion, get crushed in a car accident.

Jump.

You watch Mal fall out the window, and you know you've made the biggest mistake of your life.

The mind can believe in anything. That's the trick to inception. That's the flaw, too.

~*~

You told her to wake up. "It's okay, Mal." Then you led her to the train tracks, held her hand with all the love in your eyes. Everything was supposed to be okay after that.

"We're together," you whisper in her hair, a promise that you both made to each other.

Except now, you're having to tell her, "You're already awake, Mal."

"Make up your mind!" She hurls the plate across the room and stares at it, transfixed, head tilted as it shatters against the wall like she's seeing something else, like she's expecting the plate to _do_ something else.

"It's okay," you tell her, over and over again. "Mal." Her name becomes a mantra, but she doesn't believe in it the same way that you do.

"Dom," she whispers when you finally get her to bed, "we're dreaming." Her fingers are chilly as she drags them down your cheek. "Can't you see?"

"Your totem, Mal. Check your totem."

But you know, even as she turns away from you with a sharp, "No!" You know what you've done. "I don't need it. I know that I'm dreaming. This isn't real. None of this is _real_."

~*~

The lamp, the overturned chair, the breeze coming in through the window. You should have seen this coming. All it takes is an idea, and Mal's mind— 

It's what made her beautiful. She knew how to dream, and that's exactly how this room is arranged, like something out of one of your dreams when you were growing old together in limbo. 

You didn't tell her, _your world is not real_. You did something much worse. You made her believe it when you found her totem in the deepest recesses of her mind, and she led you to a hotel room to make you believe in her again. 

It's the only thing you believe in now as you watch the top spin, showing her over and over again that _this world is real_. 

"No, Dom," she whispers, cradling your face in her hands. "No, it isn't. Let's go see our children."

"Mal," you try to tell her, but she goes to the window and falls and you can't stop her.

This is the reality that you can't escape, even in the dream, no matter how deep you go. Mal walks across the room, through the glass, leaving blood on the floor, all because you gave her an idea.

You try to tell her, to _convince_ her, "This isn't real." But it fails. It always fails, and the only promise you can keep now is, "I'll come back for you." 

And you do — down the elevator, to this hotel room, where she's always waiting for you. She smiles, cups your face, kisses you, and it almost feels real enough to make you believe again as she whispers, "Don't be afraid. We'll be together."


End file.
